


What it Means

by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)



Series: Steter Week 2018 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Crazy Peter Hale, Garage Scene Rewrite, M/M, Mating Bites, and fuck anyone who tried to negate that, bad decisions all around tbh, but in that way where they're still MY decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 03:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyofthekids/pseuds/twothumbsandnostakeincanon
Summary: Day Two of Steter Week, Mating Bite:“Do you think I don’t know what a bite on the wrist means??”Peter had not, in fact, thought that Stiles would know what it means, but he wasn’t about to let him know that.





	1. Chapter 1

“Do you want the bite?”

_“What?”_

“Do. You. Want. The. Bite?”

Peter brought his mouth closer to Stiles’ wrist, teeth beginning to extend.

“I fucking heard you, asshole,” Stiles said, heated. “Do you think I don’t know what a bite on the wrist means??”

Peter had not, in fact, thought that Stiles would know what it means, but he wasn’t about to let _him_ know that. He smirked.

“And just what do you think it means?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension to hide his surprise.

Stiles yanked his wrist back out of Peter’s grip, which- rude. He could have been more gentle about it. But then to Peter’s shock, Stiles started unbuttoning his cuff.

“If I do this, I’m doing it with a full knowledge of what it means, and the expectation of being your _equal,”_ Stiles stressed, glaring up at Peter as he rolled his sleeve back. “If you think you’ll be getting a confused, pliant, naïve little mate out of this then you are shockingly wrong.” He finished rolling his sleeve and pointed a stern finger in Peter’s face. “Don’t bite me at all if that’s what you want.”

Stiles held his wrist out again and Peter took it automatically, staring open mouthed at Stiles.

“I’ll help you get Derek, I’ll help you get revenge on those responsible, I’ll be part of your pack as your mate,” Stiles’s gaze turned to cold steel, “and I absolutely will _not_ do anything to force Scott into our pack. Do you understand me?”

Peter continued to hold the wrist, dumbfounded. Stiles kept going.

“The only people I truly care about on this entire bitch of an earth are my dad and Scott, and if we do this then you might be added to the list too. But don’t think for one second that I won’t kill the shit out of you and take the alpha power for myself if you try to hurt the other two.” Stiles’ voice was forceful, his eyes bright, and no one listening could have possibly mistaken his words for anything but deadly serious.

Peter finally found his voice.

“You simply can’t speak that way to me unless you want me to to take your virginity in this parking garage right now.”

Stiles’ cheeks took on an _adorable_ dusting of pink. “Later. First you need to actually bite me, if you’re gonna do it, and then we need to go get Derek. And for fuck’s sake, get rid of the body in the trunk.”

Peter looked wonderingly at the boy in front of him, bringing the wrist closer to his mouth-

“Wait.”

Stiles sighed exasperatedly. “What now?”

“You realize this is a lifetime commitment, right?” Peter clarified, a shaft of clarity filtering through his mind. “I’m never going to let you date around or get cozy with other people. The girl I just bit- you won’t be going to any more dances with her.”

“I barely went to _this_ dance with her.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yes, I understand. Mates for life. Gotcha. Let’s go.” He wiggled his wrist a little in demand.

Peter squinted at him. “So you’re just perfectly fine with what is essentially getting married, but _more permanent,_ at the age of sixteen? That-” he frowned. “That doesn’t seem healthy.”

Stiles was gaping at Peter now. “You were about to trick me into it without telling me, and now you’re worried that I’m doing it _willingly?”_

“I didn’t have to question your reasons when I was going to trick you into it!” Peter protested. “Now I’m wondering why you’re so ready to jump into it!” He looked concernedly at Stiles. “Is everything okay at home?”

“Oh my _fucking_ God,” Stiles said, disbelieving. “I thought our first relationship problem would be me preventing you from killing Scott, or having to lecture you about dumbass misogynistic period jokes, but _this_ is what the problem is?”

“Hey, Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder is a real thing that affects millions of women!”

“That’s not what you were talking about and you know it, don’t try to wiggle out of it. Now are you going to bite me or not?”

Peter dropped Stiles’ wrist. “No. Not until you tell me why you’re so ready to make a lifetime commitment to a werewolf that, as far as you know, has only tried to make your life more difficult and been responsible for extensive revenge killings.” Peter crossed his arms and waited expectantly.

Stiles shifted on his feet uncomfortably, and it could not have been more obvious that he was trying to come up with a quick reason that would sound good.

“Remember-” Peter touched his ear. “I’ll know if you’re lying.”

Stiles glared at him grumpily before looking away, crossing his own arms. He set his chin stubbornly and looked anywhere but at Peter as he started to talk.

“There are a lot of reasons. Being a werewolf, especially the equal of an alpha werewolf, gives me the ability to protect my dad. It gives me access to knowledge and power that’ll keep him safe. And-” he cut himself off for a moment before forcing himself to continue. “I want the mate aspect… _because_ of the lifetime commitment. Not in spite of it.”

He glanced back at Peter. “You said you like me. I don’t know if I like you or not, but I definitely understand you. That’s a hell of a better foundation than butterflies and twitterpation.” He unfolded his arms, hanging them loose at his sides. “I understand you, and if you’re willing to be a permanent source of companionship in my life… I’d like that. I- I need it. I need someone constant.”

Peter silently regarded Stiles for another moment. He slowly reached out and took his wrist again, murmuring as he brought it to his mouth.

“Equals, partners, constants.” He extended his teeth. _“Mates.”_

He bit.

* * *

 

The car raced down a back road as Stiles turned around to rummage in the backseat, ass up next to Peter’s face.

Normally Peter would have been fine with that, but he was trying to focus.

“She was a nurse and she doesn’t even have a first aid kit in her car?” Stiles said, disgruntled as he resumed his seat. “What kind of a nurse doesn’t have a first aid kit in the car!”

Peter’s face darkened. “She wasn’t a very good nurse.”

Stiles glanced over at the change in the timbre of his voice. Peter deliberately didn’t look back at him, but reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief and hand it over.

“It should stop bleeding soon,” he assured Stiles, glancing at the bite wound. “I can already tell it’s going to take.”

“Really?” Stiles asked, intrigued. “How do you know?”

“I don’t smell any necrosis.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose as he wrapped the handkerchief around his wrist and tried to tie it one handed. “Gross.”

“‘Gross?’ You do realize that you’ve agreed to help me commit revenge murder?” Peter said with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles, brow furrowed, tongue sticking out slightly as he continued to struggle with the handkerchief, said, “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to _smell_ it. My wolfy sense of smell won’t kick in for like, at least another 8 hours right?”

The corner of Peter’s mouth quirked up. “I couldn’t say. It goes faster for some than others.” He took a deep breath, already smelling the tendrils of his own scent mixing with Stiles’ blood. “I might think faster for you. You can always breathe through your mouth if you need to.”

“What’s the plan, anyway?” Stiles asked, giving up on tying the handkerchief and just holding it on. “You said Kate’s holding Derek in the basement; are you just going to bust up in there, claws out? Slicey dicey Katie nicely?”

Peter shrugged, mouth twitching up slightly at the rhyme. “If she’s there. I have several plans, depending on the circumstances when we arrive. All of which involve you staying away from Argent.”

Stiles looked at him disbelievingly. “But you just bit me!”

“Exactly,” Peter agreed. “I _just_ bit you. You’re not a wolf yet, you’re a teenage human. Mostly. You’re in between right now, but still mostly human.”

“Okay, let me get this straight: we just went through a whole _thing_ back in that garage,” he pointed wildly behind himself with both hands as he continued to hold on the handkerchief, “about how I only agreed to the bite under the provision that I would be your _equal,_ and you’re already trying to shove me aside??”

“I’m not ‘shoving you aside,’ Stiles,” Peter said, exasperated. “I’m trying to keep you safe until the bite can actually take full effect.”

“And I’m just useless until I’m a werewolf, aren’t I?” Stiles said bitterly. The car screeched to a halt and Stiles yelped, putting his non-bitten arm out to keep himself from slamming into the dashboard. “What the _fu-”_

Peter threw the car into park and reached across the middle console, taking Stiles’ face in his hands firmly but gently.

“Listen to me: you are just as dangerous as a human as you will be as a werewolf,” he said quietly, looking Stiles in the eye. “I never would have offered you the bite if you weren’t. Being a werewolf has many benefits- speed, strength, healing- but it’s not going to change who you are as a person. Even now, in… less than ideal conditions, I’d never mate someone who has to rely on their wolf to be interesting.”

He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself with Stiles’ changing scent.

“The reason I want you to stay out of danger is because we won’t be able to feel pack bonds, our mate bond, until the change really takes hold.” He looked searchingly in Stiles’ eyes. “If you go into a fight with me I won’t know if you’re hurt. Possibly until it’s too late. I won’t be able to keep track of you, I won’t be able to watch your back.” He was clearly agitated, grip tightening slightly as he spoke. “You don’t realize how important you are, Stiles. You-” He cut off his words for a moment before forcing them out. “You are currently my only willing pack member.”

Stiles breathed out shakily. He could feel urgency around his heart; a ghost of something that could easily grow into panic.

“This is- this is intense.”

Peter leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Stiles’, thumb drifting across his cheekbone. “It’s the beginnings of the bond. Which I would like to feel in it’s full, final form. Wouldn’t you?” He pulled back to look at Stiles again.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah- yeah. I’ll-” he swallowed. “I’m not going to promise to stay out of it completely, but I won’t like, put myself between you and a bullet, alright?”

Peter leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Peter reached out and picked up the bloodied handkerchief from where it had fallen in Stiles’ lap, and tied it neatly around the bite he’d given fifteen minutes earlier. Stiles watched silently, stunned with the amount of care in his movements.

Stiles was possessive by nature. He’d expected that eventually, he’d feel the possessive of Peter if he didn’t end up needing to kill him first.

He hadn’t expected this. Twenty minutes ago he would have shot Peter without regret. Twenty minutes ago Peter would have slashed Stiles’ throat if he’d gotten in the way.

Twenty minutes ago Stiles had willingly married his soul to a spree killer, and now he was seriously considering just how many people he’d be willing to kill for him.

Just as he finished tying the handkerchief, Peter’s head snapped up, looking out the windshield. With a jolt, Stiles realized they’d arrived at the Hale house. Peter was out of the car in the next second, disappearing into the darkness while Stiles sat frozen in the passenger seat.

Two figures came hobbling into the clearing, but it wasn’t until they collapsed in the car’s headlights that Stiles recognized them as Scott and Derek.

“Scotty!” Stiles yelled, scrambling out of the car and going to Scott’s side.

“Stiles,” Scott was panting. “Allison- her aunt-”

“Yeah, I know, her aunt’s a real bitch,” Stiles said distractedly, hauling Scott halfway up and glancing over at Derek to see how many bloody patches he had.

Stiles couldn’t see Peter, and hoped that meant he was enacting one of his plans. “Come on, dude,” Stiles said urgently. “Let’s-”

“Oh look.”

Stiles swung his head around to see Kate and Allison entering the clearing.

“It’s your boyfriend’s boyfriend,” Kate drawled.

“That’s not even a good line,” Stiles snarked, heart nearly beating out of his chest. “Scott and I would be cute as hell as a couple. Don’t they have a class on witty quips in Hunter School? Or did you skip that day so you could go to the ‘murder by arson’ seminar?”

A few feet over, Derek groaned, rolling a little. Kate whipped out her gun and shot him on the spot.

Allison screamed.

“I thought you said we were just going to capture them!!”

Kate rolled her eyes. “They need to be put down. You wouldn’t leave a rabid dog out to bite someone else, would you?” Allison stood still in shock as Kate stomped over toward Scott and Stiles. Before she could come within 5 feet, a dark shape barreled out of the house, knocking Allison over and picking up Kate to throw her at the porch.

“You don’t get anywhere _near_ him,” Peter growled, stalking up to the porch to grab her by the throat and drag her into the house. Allison was back up in a moment, running into the house after her aunt. Scott, apparently finally finding motivation, got up and ran in after her. Stiles sighed, and then went inside too.

“-I’m sorry,” he heard Kate sob. “I’m-”

He stepped into the room just in time to see Peter rip her throat out.

“I don’t think she was very sincere. Do you?” Peter said, an unhinged smile on his face as he stared at Allison.

“Allison, run,” Scott growled, and- in Stiles’ opinion, showing the only amount of common sense that had appeared from anyone all night including himself- she took off. Stiles watched Scott shift, and looked back at Peter. He saw a disconnect on Peter’s face as he stared at Scott.

A disconnect that said everything about how this was going to go down.

“Peter.” Stiles’ voice cut through the air sharply. When he got no response, he said again, _“Peter.”_

Peter finally reluctantly looked away from Scott and over to Stiles. Stiles held up his wrist and raised an eyebrow. “We have a deal, Peter.”

Stiles could see him struggling to put the wolf away, trying to rationalize with his base instincts to make Scott submit and then continue his revenge spree until the entire world burned.

Because that’s what Stiles understood about Peter. He understood the need to make the guilty pay. He understood the need to pull penance. He also understood how easy it is to look at those who are uninvolved and think _Guilty. Guilty. Every one of them, guilty of ignorance and carelessness and laziness. Guilty of allowing bigotry to go unchecked. Guilty of underappreciating what they still have._

So once again, he said _“Peter.”_

“Stiles,” Scott growled. “What are you talking about? What deal?”

There was another growl from the corner, and Stiles looked over, surprised to see Derek back on his feet and inside the house.

Peter was slowly putting himself back together, pulling away from the fire that had burned within him for six years.

“Stiles,” Scott insisted when Stiles didn’t answer. “What deal?”

“I joined his pack.” Stiles held out his wrapped wrist in proof, and Scott recoiled.

Derek snarled even louder. _“Mate?”_ he demanded of Peter.

“It’s cool Derek, I knew what I was agreeing to,” Stiles said, looking back at Peter. “You alright? Because we should probably do something about the-” he gestured at Kate’s cooling body.

“What did you do to him?” Scott yelled, taking an aggressive step toward Peter.

“Woah, Scotty. He didn’t do anything. Just because I’m part of his pack doesn’t mean you have to be. It was even part of our agreement, right Peter?” He looked to Peter for backup, and Peter nodded, eyes glowing but face human.

“That’s right darling.”

“Don’t provoke, Peter,” Stiles chastised when Derek growled more deeply at the endearment.

“I apologize, darling,” Peter said with a smirk. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“What did you _do to him?!”_ Scott yelled again, this time launching a full frontal attack. Peter easily batted him out of the air, and straight through a wall into the yard. Derek was the next to run at Peter, who this time simply immobilized him.

“You’ve had a very bad day, Derek,” Peter said quietly, but with absolute Alpha authority. “So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to go sit in my car and wait for me to finish up here so that I can take the arrowhead out of your leg and make sure the wound heals neatly. Then I’ll take you back to the apartment where I’ve been staying, and you’ll take a shower, and then go to bed. Whatever other problems you have with me can wait until then.”

Derek’s snarling had stopped by the end, and Stiles waited to see what he would choose to do-

His head tilted slightly to the side, exposing his neck to Peter. A warm burn of satisfaction pooled in Stiles’ stomach, so unexpected that it startled him. He glanced up at Peter, who was smirking at him yet again.

Peter let go of Derek. “Stiles, would you help him out to the car?”

Stiles came over and placed a hand at Derek’s back, guiding him out as he seemed to be in a bit of a daze. When they reached the car and Derek sat in the back, he finally looked over at Stiles.

“You really agreed to that? To be Peter’s mate?” he asked gruffly, but quietly.

“Yes,” Stiles said simply.

There was a pause.

“You’re sixteen. It’s illegal for you to get married.”

“We’re not married, we’re mated. And we’re werewolves, dude. I’m pretty sure this is _all_ illegal.”

There was another pause, and then, even quieter-

“Why?”

Stiles looked at him, at his exhausted face. He already felt more of a connection to him than he had since their first meeting. Derek had been through so much, at the hands of hunters, and Peter, and Stiles himself. Derek was in no way innocent either.

“Pack,” Stiles finally answered. “I need pack. Try to sleep, Derek.”

He shut the door, and glanced around the clearing for Scott. He was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Allison. Stiles sighed, and tried not to think about what a mess that was going to be.

“Peter,” he said toward the house, knowing he would hear. “Don’t forget to clean out the trunk before we leave.”

“Yes dear!” he heard Peter call back. “Is there anything else for my honey-do list?”

What a little shit.

Stiles felt bright new warmth pulse in the back of his mind, steadily growing. He poked at it, and it poked back. Or rather, _he_ poked back.

Peter was a little shit, but he was a little shit that now belonged to Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is where the story ends. Or did end, until like 11:30 last night when the following scene popped into my mind RIP me.
> 
> It's not tidy, there are definitely going to be mistakes, and it might leave you with less of a feeling of closure, so like, don't read it if you're worried about that I guess? agnjlfajfajlfa idk


	2. Addition that is not really a cohesive part of the story and tbh I probably shouldn’t have posted it but I think it’s too late to delete it now PLEASE LOWER YOUR EXPECTATIONS ACCORDINGLY

The next four days were a blur for Stiles.

He had to break up six full-on, bloody teeth and broken bones fights between Peter and Derek as they worked out their shit, he discovered that they were staying in the apartment of the dead nurse (which, what the  _ fuck _ ) and he turned into a werewolf.

And then he had to go back to class. 

But it was fine. He would handle this like the fucking wolfy champion he was becoming. 

_ Wolfy champion? _ Peter texted back as Stiles walked into his first class. If “raised eyebrow” was an emotion, then it was one Peter was proficient at sending through their bond. 

_ WOLFY CHAMPION. _ Stiles confirmed.

He spent the first two periods not listening even a little bit while clutching tightly at the warm bonds between himself and Peter and Derek. He was doing okay, though. He’d been prepared. He had stable pack bonds, and he’d already trained Scott through this shit. 

Unfortunately, Scott was apparently determined to also be the reason he lost control. 

When a hand shot out of an empty classroom, trying to drag him inside, Stiles very nearly just ripped it off. It was only the faint hint of hospital and animals, making up the familiar scent of Scott that stopped him. 

So Stiles allowed himself to be pulled inside the classroom, and even shut the door behind himself. 

“Where have you been?” Scott asked, still gripping Stiles’ arm tightly. Stiles slowly peeled his fingers off one by one with a pinched mouth. 

“Getting my wolf under control, dude. I wasn’t gonna just show up and accidentally eat half the student body.”

“So it took?” Scott said, looking absolutely crushed.

Stiles frowned at him.

“Yeah man. I’m not dead.” He gestured widely to himself. “I generally prefer it this way.”

Scott set his jaw firmly.

“It’s okay man,” he said, consoling and determined. “Maybe- maybe it’ll cure both of us if we kill Peter together-”

Stiles froze, pushing down the immediate rage burning inside him at hearing even a suggestion of violence against his mate.

He took a deep breath.

And then another. 

On his third exhale, he finally managed to say, “You don’t actually  _ still _ believe that, do you? I gave you the research I found dude. I even highlighted-“

Scott interrupted stubbornly.

“Derek said-“

Oh,  _ hell no. _

“Derek knew damn well that was a stupid campfire story. He would’ve said anything to get you to work with him,” Stiles said firmly. “We can go right now and you can ask him whether he’s full of shit or not.” 

That pulled up Scott short. 

“You know where to find Derek?”

“Yeah, of course. He’s my beta now. Mine and Peter’s.”

Scott reeled back like he’d been slapped. 

“You-” he said faintly. “He’s mind controlling you and Derek.”

“Oh, for  _ fuc-“ _

_ BANG _

“STILINSKI. MCCALL. GET YOUR YOUTHFUL ASSES TO CLASS.”

Stiles curled his fingers into his palms, hiding the claws that had been startled out of him. He closed his eyes briefly to make sure they were under control before turning to face Finstock, who’d burst into the classroom. 

“Sure, coach,” he nodded with a forced smile before taking off for English without looking back at Scott. 

He never actually made it to English. 

Instead, he just kept walking, straight through the doors at the end of the hall and then into the parking lot where he got into his Jeep. 

Ten minutes after that he walked into the dead nurses apartment. 

“Hey! I need to be here instead of at school murdering my lifelong best friend. You realize we’re gonna have to wipe this place of all fingerprints, right? We should start now.” 

He was babbling and he knew it

Peter looked up, concerned. “Is there another body to dump?” he asked slowly. 

“Not yet,” Stiles said grimly. “Where did the shitty nurse keep her cleaning supplies?”

Peter looked at him for another moment. 

“Under the sink,” he eventually said before bowing his head back to his laptop. 

Stiles spent the next two hours scrubbing and bleaching, not even really focusing on fingerprints or DNA (his dad’s department didn’t have the money to chemically analyze every crime scene, especially if there was no evidence of violence. It was much more likely that once the nurse was finally reported, in another two weeks when her vacation time was up, then she would just be marked down as a missing person and never looked into again.)

(Crime investigation is incredibly depressing)

Eventually he reached above Peter to wipe off a shelf full of hideous glass figurines, and Peter took the opportunity to pull him down onto the couch next to him. 

“So you’re a stress cleaner,” Peter mused, tucking Stiles into his side to scent him. “I’ll be honest, I was hoping for a stress baker.”

Stiles snorted.

“You should have been more specific on the form.” He leaned in to scent Peter back before realizing what he was doing and catching himself. Peter looked at him curiously. 

“I-” Stiles halted for a moment, organizing the thoughts that had been swirling around in his head since talking to Scott. “You’re not mind controlling me.”

Peter sat back further, incredulous confusion taking up his whole face. 

“... No. I’m not.”

“Right. But- my thought patterns aren’t exactly the same as they were before either. The- the bond is definitely influencing me, but- you’re not controlling me.” Stiles said it like a statement, but with a dozen questions hiding behind it. 

“I’m not controlling you,” Peter repeated quietly. “My mind is different as well. I was- I wasn’t sane before, Stiles. You know that.” He paused. “I tried to manipulate you into mating. You, the sixteen year old son of the sheriff. I said, out loud, that I wanted to have sex with you in a parking garage.” Peter grimaced. “Under more normal circumstances, I probably would have thought those things, but I definitely wouldn’t have said them out loud, much less acted on them.”

“You didn’t act on the sex one,” Stiles reminded him. “I remain completely un-parking-lot-boned.” 

“That isn’t really the point. The point is that I was so desperate for pack bonds that it was quite literally making me crazy. I was ready to trick you into it, despite knowing that you would likely kill me for it once you found out.”

“But you didn’t,” Stiles protested. “You even made me explain why I was willing!”

Peter shook his head. “Not until you’d already agreed. Not until I already had that spiderweb thin promise of a voluntary pack bond. That alone changed my thought patterns. It put me in your debt, and you under my responsibility.” He tipped his head to the side. “In certain ways, anyway. The point is that yes, we’ve influenced the way each other think. That usually happens when you spend enough time with any one person. Our relationship is just… supernaturally intensified. If I’m mind controlling you, then you’re mind controlling me too. So far it’s worked out pretty well for me.” He shrugged. “You’ll have to decide whether I’ve been beneficial to you.”

Stiles nodded slowly, and Peter went back to his laptop. 

Eventually, Stiles finished leaning in to scent him back and settled quietly on his shoulder for a minute. 

“... so does this mean we're never going to bang in a parking lot?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know??? I guess I just needed a little follow up???? Whatever, it lives here now.


End file.
